Turning Saints Into the Sea
by time-will-give-us-nothing
Summary: "Kurt was just like any other guy – I just had to live with him to figure that out." In which Kurt really has to take a morning piss and Finn is hogging the bathroom.


**Turning Saints Into the Sea**

**"Kurt was just like any other guy – I just had to live with him to figure that out." **

On the first morning after the move in, an alarm had gone off beside Kurt's bed. I'd been awake ever since two hours earlier, playing my DSi because truthfully, I felt the least bit comfortable sleeping on the tiny – and I mean _tiny_ – love seat in Kurt's basement bedroom_. (See, I bet you thought I was going to say sleeping in the same room as a gay guy – hah! My Finn-ness is much more mature then that, at least, much more than Kurt _still_ thinks). _

I watched my half-brother with interest, shocked that his eyes didn't shoot open and he didn't jump out his bed with a cheery, morning smile. Actually, it took about forty-five seconds for Kurt to even stir. Kurt, who slept with his whole body – head to toe –covered in fluffy white blanket, shifted beneath the mountain of fabric. Then, Kurt's hand surfaced, followed by his head. Hair ruffled and out of place, Kurt looked like a bat from hell. Dark circles and lines swallowed his eyes; his lips were scrunched together – and not in the Hummel pout. Snatching the crazed alarm clock off his bedside table, Kurt squinted to see the time (which was written in big, bold white letters on a blue background).

**6:03**, it read. Kurt must've set it two minutes early so he could reminisce in his tiredness before getting up at 6:05. Only thing was, Kurt growled, cursed, and yanked the alarm clock out its socket. He dropped it against the tile floor with a clatter, covered himself back up, and was asleep a few seconds later. That was the first 'shocker' of the morning.

The second came around forty-five minutes later when Kurt pulled back his sheets suddenly and stumbled – literally – out of his bed. I was brushing my teeth (in my Stewie-massacre underwear) in the bathroom. By the disgusted look on his face, I hoped it wasn't because of me he woke up. Quickly remembering I was almost completely naked, I slammed the door shut in a panic. _(First of all, I'm not a saint. He's gay, and he used to have a crush on me. Awkward. There's not second of all, or third of all so …wrong grammar?) _

I was colliding with the ceiling and walls and bathtub looking for some pants when there was a sudden, single kick to the door. "Finn, open up." That might sound pleasant, but his tone told me otherwise.

"Uhh," I said like the idiot I was, "hold on."

There was a seven second pause – then, "Finn, I'm serious, open up the goddamn door."

_Shit, shit shit_, I thought, cheeks ablaze with embarrassment. A major headache was brewing when I _finally_ (thank you angel, who art though in heaven) saw blue denim fabric wedged between the toilet and wall. Grabbing them, I started yanking them up my long legs. My heels kept stepping on it, too, making my heart pound. I really didn't want him seeing my like this. Now, it became quite clear to me that men of my stature were not supposed to be doing things in a quick. It ended with two words: pathetic fail.

I had them halfway up my legs when the door flew open. Kurt swept past me (also in his (Calvin Klein) undies) running towards the urinal. Putting up the seat, he reached in his underwear, took his "it" out, and started pissing. My heart dropped.

The fact that I couldn't even see it didn't stop be for gaping at his hand like a moron. Kurt sighed with relief, swiping his bangs back with the rest of his hair (something he would _never_ do in front of other people; Kurt's bangs had to be _perfect_ against his face, not absently pulled back and forgotten like trash). He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, titling his face towards the ceiling. His grogginess made it seem that he'd only gotten five minutes of sleep when in reality, I'd watched him sleep soundlessly through the whole night. Putting his "thing" back, Kurt flushed the toilet, hand-santitized, and sat on the edge of his bathtub, legs spread while. He put his face in his hands, fingers pushing into his eye sockets.

"Go away, Finn. I have to take a shower."

I hadn't realized I was gawking at him till he said that. That concluded the end of all that. When Kurt came out about thirty minutes later, his waist was covered by a towel. He was still rubbing his eyes. I couldn't witness any other behavior because unfortunately (…I'm not going to lie – fortunately) it was my turn to bathe. When I came out fifteen minutes later, Kurt was completely re-done. Make-up, clothes, and attitude.

"Good morning, Finn," he said with a giddy smile.

"Uhh, morning."


End file.
